


Just a Touch of Nudity

by ECCougar



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:08:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25657162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ECCougar/pseuds/ECCougar
Summary: Kagome's revelation teases Sango about nudes, challenging her conceptions about nudity in paintings. With Sesshoumaru's good graces, will she be able to win the fight with herself to be brave enough for Miroku's benefit?Spin-off Oneshot from Send Noods!
Relationships: Miroku/Sango (InuYasha)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Just a Touch of Nudity

Sango was staring open mouthed at what Kagome had decided to show her during their private bath time. It was just the girls today, no boys, and Kagome had finally given in to Sango’s curiosity. 

_Before..._

Now personally, Sango was a bit more traditional than most. Kagome and her odd delight in Sesshoumaru were so much more... Unorthodox in their affection. So now, as both girls lounged at the Inn’s bath, Kagome had decided to show her two of the pages in that book she had received from Sesshoumaru’s personal courier a month ago. That was definitely an unforgettable visit - shortly after Sesshoumaru had appeared alongside Kagome from bathing at the hot springs. Kagome was flushed and pleased, practically glowing for the rest of the evening and happy with every one of Sesshoumaru’s light touches as the evening progressed. Now the demon lord was their escort through the Western lands, having spared no expense at towns mostly inhabited by demons.   
It was nice, Sango decided, to finally have been funded in such a way they didn’t have to worry about constantly working. Though when traversing through demon territories, it tended to be a little tense, as their professions usually hinged upon slaying and exorcising demons. If not for the Lord Sesshoumaru vouching for them in certain towns, Sango was sure they would have been ripped to tiny little pieces by the hordes of demons living in them. As it happened, they were staying in a larger town where humans and demons were living somewhat separately, choosing not to intermarry or mix unless they were outside of town. The Inn they were staying at had been built by a kindly tanuki female, who enjoyed hosting others for their stories. She was allowing them to stay as a great honor for the courtesy of Lord Sesshoumaru’s honored presence, so she had said.   
So now, as they were in the bath and after a month’s worth of pestering, Kagome had finally, albeit abjectly, agreed to show her what was in that sinful red leather, silk bound book. Out of courtesy and resisting the title of snoop, she hadn’t dug through Kagome’s bag. Once or twice she’d managed to find it in the bag while looking for something else, and the overwhelming temptation to open it just to take a peep had nearly gotten the best of her. Sango had loosed her hair and both girls were seated comfortably in the warmth of the water. Kagome had been so nervous, squirreling the book away in a towel and skirting around Sesshoumaru like he could tell what was hidden there.   
“So show me! What has you so nervous?” Sango laughed. Kagome flushed.   
“You have to promise me you won’t say anything to anyone ever at any time.” Kagome insisted, her blush growing brighter. Sango’s smirk turned sardonic.   
“Why, are you gonna have to kill me if I open my big mouth?” She teased. Kagome shot her a look.  
“I may not... But the other owner of this book might.” She warned. Sango’s mirth lessened.  
“What do you mean, other owner?” She asked, confused. Kagome swallowed and brought herself out of the mock spring, using one of the extra towels the tanuki demon had graciously provided and dried before carefully opening the towel and unwrapping the silk that bound the book closed.   
“This book is both mine, and Lord Sesshoumaru’s.” She said quietly. “In fact, I asked before I agreed to show you anything. He didn’t really say he cared one way or another..”   
Kagome rolled her eyes.  
“That’s just the level of confidence Sesshoumaru has in himself I suppose. But seriously. I’m only showing you two things. When I tell you to close your eyes, do so, tightly and I will turn the pages to the proper portraits.”  
Sango nodded in agreement. So they were portraits. How bad could portraits really be?

_Now..._

Kagome had allowed for her to open her eyes, and the picture before her was... Shocking. Sesshoumaru was an attractive man, no matter how anyone spun it, but he was merely eye candy to someone who was already in love. Miroku would always have her heart and body, that would never change. But the flush that moved through Sango’s body at the portrait Kagome displayed from the book she had placed in her lap was one of a universal language that was understood by all women of the world seeing a man of quality.   
The silver haired demon in the painting had his back to the painter and was twisted to the right, arm reaching back as his golden gaze was glowing through the small gap in his arm. Not only was the pose one to tantalize the eye by flexing every fine tuned muscle in the demon lord’s body, but he had also been divested of every scrap of cloth. For the first, and probably only time in her life, Sango was staring at a very naked, very alluring Lord Sesshoumaru.   
“Oh...” she exclaimed softly. Kagome giggled, her feet swishing in the water.   
“Yeah... And this isn’t even the one I opened up on. That is literally, exactly what I said.” Kagome laughed. She looked down at the book in her bare lap and sighed. “Gods, he’s beautiful.”  
Sango blinked, not sure how to react. She was worried if she agreed, Kagome might take offense. But if she didn’t, the same situation could apply. There was no way to deny the demon lord had a savory human form, and Sango didn’t want to gush or imply she was attracted in the way Kagome was.   
“Um.. O-of course, Kagome. He really is a fine specimen of man - er... Uhm... Demon?” She substituted, still flustered for words. Her eyes still hadn’t left the page, and was, for some unruly reason, glued to the ass of the Lord of the West. She couldn’t help it... It reminded her so much of a certain monk’s hardened ass, one where the corded muscles were toned from time spent out amongst the people, doing works of kindness and strength. Their original conversation a month or more ago reminded her of the monk’s offer to have paintings done in the nude. Sango’s full body blush felt hotter with the warm water.   
“D-did Lord Sesshoumaru have these painted from his immediate likeness? Or was there.. Maybe a different model..?” Sango faltered, not realizing her head was tilting as she took in the painting before looking at Kagome for the answer.   
“I believe he modeled for these himself.” She answered. “I’d be the first to know if it was someone else’s body.”  
“Right..” Sango said softly.   
“Close your eyes again!”  
Sango obeyed and waited for the command again.  
“Okay, open!” She exclaimed.   
Sango opened her eyes and made a noise of surprise.  
“Oh my god, Kagome, you could’ve warned me!”  
Kagome flushed and held the book tighter, knuckles whitening. “Sango, you’re the one that asked non-stop to see these. These are the least shocking ones!”  
The painting was of Kagome and Sesshoumaru, clearly in the throes of passion. It was detailed in such a way that there really was more skin than private parts showing. In fact, the longer Sango studied the portrait, the more intrigued she became. She studied the painting quietly, and realized that the gift was one of love. The look the painter had decided to use and even the techniques didn’t seem to be traditional Japanese painting techniques; they were more detail oriented. There was tenderness in the demon lord’s eyes that she had never seen cross his placid features.  
“So were you with him for this painting?” Sango asked. Kagome shook her head.  
“No, apparently he described me in detail and the painter did drawings before he chose the paintings. The paintings themselves are just... Wonderful.” She said softly, looking down warmly over the painting.   
“I see. You do look beautiful Kagome. That’s a fantastic likeness of you..”   
Kagome closed the book and bound it again, wrapping it in the towel she’d brought it in and pushing it well away from the water.  
“So what inspired this?” Sango asked. “Its an unusual gift.”  
Kagome laughed, sliding back into the warm water.   
“Apparently, he and Inuyasha had a disagreement over some things that were said before I left one day. Sesshoumaru took it a little personally, and decided to spend some time on this. I don’t really know anything else behind the thought process behind them... but...” She paused, a finger on her soft smile. “I don’t think there will ever not be a time I won’t treasure these. Its nice to think I will always have a reminder of him wherever I go.”  
Sango searched her odd friend, and could understand the sentiment behind the statement.   
“You know, I could see how that would be endearing. I wonder...” Sango was now musing. “Remember when Miroku asked if I’d like a nude painting of him? Now I’m kind of wondering if perhaps I shouldn’t ask for one.”  
Kagome laughed, holding her sides.  
“I don’t know, Sango. I think Miroku would be more surprised to receive them from you.” She teased. Sango laughed and nodded in agreement.   
“Like you’d ever.” Kagome sighed, still chuckling. Sango huffed.   
“Maybe I would.”   
Kagome’s cheeks puffed. “Pffft... You wouldn’t.”  
Sango threw her chest out, hand to her chest and one on her hip in a pose of regality.   
“You don’t know what I would and would not do!” She declared loftily. Kagome grinned.  
“Don’t make me call your bluff, Sango. I do have a camera. I bet if I asked, Sesshoumaru would let me borrow the painter he has on retainer.”  
Sango binked.  
“What in hades is a camera?”  
Kagome chuckled.   
“I can show you when we get out. I did bring it... I had thought to take some pictures of myself as well, but something just didn’t feel as genuine as his paintings, so I decided against it.” Kagome gave her a wink, and Sango hmphed.   
“We’ll see.”

~*~

Once again, Sango knew she was staring and felt powerless to stop herself. In Kagome’s hand was a tiny metal box with a black square that lit up when she pushed certain points on the box. One little click and she was looking at herself in surprise. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure she liked the idea of that little box holding her private secrets on it.   
“So... I’m not going to lie, Kagome... I think I agree with you. This feels impersonal. How would we even give these paintings to Miroku?”  
Kagome shrugged.   
“Its up to you, but I thought we could take the pictures and maybe give them to the artist to sketch or something. I could always ask if maybe we could.. Borrow the painter for a while?”  
Sango sighed deeply.   
“Let me think about it for a little while.” She finally answered after a long moment, turning to the bed mat and deciding it was time to go to bed. Kagome shrugged and blew the lantern out, leaving Sango to the tugging in her gut. It kept flip-flopping back and forth between yes and no, and was frustrating her. To be honest, sleeping here was more a courtesy to Kagome than anything. It seemed more proper, if only because she and Miroku had opted to keep their affectionate couplings completely out of sight of their group. Somehow, Kagome’s meddlings, while sometimes endearing, tended to be a little bit improper for her taste. She knew her father was probably rolling in his grave right about now with the way she had been dancing around Miroku’s affections. 

Personally... If she thought she could get away with letting him fondle her buttocks, she would probably not make such a big deal of it if it hadn’t looked as improper as it felt. Every time the man reached and caressed her butt, a bolt of lightning struck her, and it took forever to shake off the sudden onslaught of desire that coursed through her. It was particularly troublesome when they happened to be in the midst of a tense battle; the feeling was distracting enough, one day it might actually kill her. She snorted and curled in on herself, suddenly mad. You couldn’t tell the stupid fool something like that though - Gods forbid you make sense in the heat of the moment. He was forever joking and living in the moment. Sango pursed her lips, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. 

That was part of his charm though, she admitted. His laugh was carefree and full of mirth she wished she could emulate more often. She thought back to the painting Kagome had shown her of Sesshoumaru and Kagome laying together. The thing that was most surprising was not the lewdness of it; it was the expression that had been painted on the demon lord. It was unusual to see anything on the blank demon lord’s face that did not show calm, collected, placid emotions. His face... It was as though he was completely in love, showing a tenderness he was clearly not comfortable sharing with anyone but his lover. 

This is what she wanted to share with Miroku. In private, she knew she was everything he wanted just the way he looked at her while he toyed with the places that made her heart go galloping off. It was in his eyes when he cradled her, whether they were bare in one another’s arms, or riding on Kirara’s back. She just wanted to find something to give him that delighted him as much as the paintings had delighted Kagome. Her stomach did another cartwheel of doubt, wondering if this would be what was best. In the morning, she would talk to Kagome and petition Lord Sesshoumaru for the price of some portraits for Miroku. 

~*~

Sango was quiet, contemplating for most of the following day as they resumed travels through the countryside. There was still indecision, but she had finally at least made up her mind on asking Sesshoumaru about his painter. Unfortunately, rather than involve Kagome any further with her impersonal little metal box, she would ask him discretely once suppertime came. The only problem was how long the day dragged on. First, a young new family requested help with their young child, who had decided to choke on an acorn. They ensured the little one was okay before moving on to the next challenge of the day, which was the blessing of a new shrine at the outside of a village they were making their way through. 

When night finally fell, and the group stopped, Sango helped with the bare minimum before approaching the frigid demon lord. He was settled sitting cross-legged on the grass a few feet away from the fire when she approached, kneeling down beside him. Clearing her throat she smiled at the demon lord, who didn’t engage her in the least.  
“Eh herm... So Lord Sesshoumaru... Kagome shared something with me that I wanted to inquire about...” She started meekly. This garnered his placid gaze, and it made her pale a touch before she continued.  
“I wanted to know.. She told me you had a painter on retainer back at your home, and I was wondering if maybe you could tell me what he would like for a few paintings of the same quality I was shown.” She tried to make it flippant, but the longer his cold, golden eyes were on her, the more she felt her stomach slither away in a chilly rush. He was silent for so long, she began to wonder if she’d offended him.   
“Um... Lord - ”   
“We assume it is for the monk?” His abrupt response startled her for a moment, but she nodded, now turning her eyes to the fire. For some reason, she was trying desperately not to be conspicuous.   
“This One gifts them to you out of respect for the priestess. The retainers has an allowance and paints not for others, but at this Sesshoumaru’s behest. Name a time, and we will bring you to him at your discretion.”   
The demon lord paused, now turning his head to look directly at the slayer sitting beside him.   
“We suggest allowing him to pose you. Kagome was supremely pleased with his selections when the painter posed us. Trust the human’s process.”   
And with that, their very brief and mildly awkward conversation was over, as Miroku had decided to join them, engaging them with a smile before sitting on Sesshoumaru’s opposite side.   
“So Lord Sesshoumaru, I hear so many grand things about the way your land has been run. Many of your constituents speak high praise of you, and not just in the battle sense.”   
Lord Sesshoumaru’s eyes slid to Miroku, but he said nothing.   
“Clearly you are greatly admired for who you are. It has been a pleasure getting to know you as an individual through your people!”   
Miroku ribbed the demon lord with an elbow, and Sesshoumaru’s mouth pursed in distaste.   
“Kagome has also been so kind and generous in her description of your character. One would think you were a god by her standard!”  
Miroku’s elbow dug into the demon’s side again as he laughed. Sango cringed, knowing it was a matter of moments before Sesshoumaru moved, if only to abdicate himself from Miroku’s obnoxious arms.   
“Perhaps the only thing missing from any one description is a sense of humor!” Miroku’s elbow moved and the demon lord rose so quickly it was sobering. He had snatched the back of Miroku’s robes and dropped him immediately where the demon lord had been sitting in an unruly heap of monk. He eyed Sango, raising a brow as if to question her interest in romantic partners before moving away from the pair. Glancing at Miroku, she realized something that made her smile to herself; he was watching the demon leave, rather expectantly. Clearly, he had decided to interrupt their conversation, being so overly pestiferous that the demon lord had no choice but to move so he could -   
“Now, darling Sango... Let me feel the silk that is the buxom of your posterior..” He grinned at her, fingers creeping over her thigh.  
So he could cop a feel.   
Sango sighed, but couldn’t help the smirk and nearly laugh.   
“Heaven is only yours when you stop being so annoyingly clever, perverted monk.” She snickered. His smile made her chest bloom with warmth. Instead of groping her backside, he sat up, cross-legged, and kissed her cheek gently.   
“You seemed so serious. Is everything all right, darling?” He asked quietly, fiddling with the beads wrapped around his hand. The wind tunnel had since cleared with Naraku’s defeat, but he couldn’t help wearing the wrap and beads still. For him it seemed like such a deeply ingrained habit, to be without it made him look almost naked.   
“I’m fine. There was a small matter I had to attend to, and it sounds like I’m going to head home for some private time for a bit. He offered to accompany me home so we could make the trip a bit shorter.”   
Sango was unaccustomed to lying to him. Even with it being to his benefit, she felt a trifling of guilt that nagged at her subconscious. She only hoped it didn’t show on her face as she gave him the most earnest smile she could muster.   
“Very kind of him indeed. Are you sure you don’t want to make a small trip for the two of us? We could take Kirara and enjoy some alone time!” His brows waggled at her as he leaned into her and she laughed, smacking his arm.   
“You’re incorrigible!” She laughed, pushing him away by the chest. He grabbed her arm and feigned pain, putting the back of his other hand to his forehead.  
“Sango, darling, you wound me with your words! Don’t you want a virile lover?” he lamented softly. She was positively abounding with laughter, knowing she was drawing attention and she couldn’t help it. He was so damningly charming sometimes, it brought her to tears of mirth. He was now snatching at her sides, poking the little places that made her peel into fits of giggles before pleading with him to stop. When he did, he placed an arm around her waist, hand settled comfortably on her hip while she rested her head on his shoulder. He smelled like sandalwood and juniper, sweet and spicy. It bolstered her resolve to give him something worth remembering and treasuring for the rest of his life.   
That weren’t children, of course.

~*~

It was early morning when she approached Sesshoumaru, who always seemed to take the back of the group despite the fact he was possible the fasted of them.   
“So I’m going to follow you for a bit with Kirara so Miroku doesn’t suspect anything and if you would prefer we travel a different way for speed, we can. I don’t want to be gone for longer than necessary...” She hesitated. “Exactly how long is this going to take?”  
Sesshoumaru blinked.  
“Possibly a week. It may depend on how you wish to display such things. We chose a bound book that can be altered.”   
She nodded, stomach fluttering as she approached the main body of the group.   
“Hey guys, I need to head to the village to check on Souta. I won’t be gone for more than a week or so, and I’ll be taking Kirara with me.” She said with a small smile. “I just kinda miss him is all.”  
She was somewhat surprised how easily the lie came out and as she watched her accepting friends nod and smile, wishing her a safe and speedy journey and to come back soon so she wouldn’t be missed for too long.   
“We shall accompany.” Sesshoumaru interjected, stepping up beside the transformed demon cat. This caused Kagome’s head to jerk and stare at her lover, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Sango hoped Sesshoumaru was kind enough to keep this quiet when Kagome grilled him upon his return. If he was returning; she wasn’t completely sure where she was going, only that Sesshoumaru had promised to take her. Miroku came up and kissed her cheek.  
“Are you sure you don’t want me to accompany you?” He asked, his concerned gaze darting over to Sesshoumaru and back. Sango didn’t disagree with him - her trust took a while to earn, and right now was Sesshoumaru’s moment to truly prove himself. But it also put her at risk, and even with Kagome’s adoration, Sango always kept her eyes open with demons.  
“Don’t worry Miroku. I’ll have Kirara and hirakotsu.” She flexed her arm and patted the muscle with a grin. “I can handle anything.”   
Miroku smiled, eyes creasing. His hand came to her cheek, thumb swiping just under her eye before he kissed her lightly. He spoke for only her to hear.  
“Come back to me safe, Sango. You are deeply loved, and every second away from you are seconds you are profoundly missed.” His next kiss was more passionate than the last, and then he stepped away.  
His arms came to rest on his shoulders as he relaxed into a more flippant pose.  
“I suppose Inuyasha will have to keep the young maidens at bay while you are away, my dear!” this time, he proclaimed it loud and obnoxiously enough that Inuyasha protested.  
“Don’t get me involved in your bullshit, Monk! You gotta take responsibility for yourself, you asshole!” Inuyasha ranted before belting the back of his head. Sango watched, expression one of derision before turning and letting their antics play out. 

Mounting Kirara, they jumped into the sky and floated away far enough for Sesshoumaru to take the lead without any prying eyes on them. They were airborne for a fair amount of time before coming upon a one story shiro that had been nestled into a deep green valley, where a river flowed out and one end opened into a vast green field. The scenery was exquisite, and Sango swallowed. She had to assume this lavish estate was Sesshoumaru’s - it had been built with dark colored woods crowning white cement and rock walls, with a boundary wall that you almost couldn’t see, as it had been painted a rich black and red. They landed in the center of the massive building, where a moss rich garden and pond had been built. 

“Our servants will see to your comfort while you are here. You need but ask and they will accommodate to the best of their ability.” He began, motioning for her to follow as the walked toward the polished wooden porch that circled the inner workings of the shiro. “We will introduce you to the artist before we take our leave. Jaken and Rin are also present during your time here; be mindful not to let them know what you are here for at your own peril.”   
Sango nodded, butterflies in her stomach with nervousness for what she was going to be doing. His silence as they walked among his grounds to one of the darker corners of the shiro made her all the more anxious and when he slid the door back, she swallowed hard.  
“Takahashi. We require your presence.” Sesshoumaru’s voice was booming in the small rooms.   
She could hear a sudden flurry of motion, banging and clattering before a familiar face came tumbling from a room she could barely see into. Paper and writing utensils came with him, and if not for the smears of charcoal and paint on his face, she may have immediately recognized the courier from when Kagome received her paintings. The thin young man, somewhat handsome with short black hair, wore a black haori and matching hakama. His complexion was pale and his eyes had dark circles under them. If not for the fact he was stammering and full of energy, she may have thought the man was sick.  
“Y-yes my Lord! I am ever your humble servant.” The young man spilled over into a humble, face down bow, stretched over the tatami of what looked to be a large, very brightly lit room. There were windows that were all open air, allowing for all natural light and there were no oil lamps to be found in the room. It was empty, save for a wooden tripod of some sort tucked away beside the room Takahashi had tumbled out of.   
“This is Sango, demon slayer. She has a relation to the woman you painted for us a few months ago, and has requested paintings of the same caliber. We expect the same service for her as you provided us.” Sesshoumaru’s eyes flashed. “Consider our tolerance the same. There is no room for wasting time or errors. Do was you are asked, and you shall be given an extra expenditure upon completion. This is our command.”  
Sango suddenly understood why Kagome would be attracted to the demon lord. Even Sango found interest in the no-nonsense tone he was using with the man.  
“My Lord, you command and it is to be done as you will.”  
Sesshoumaru turned to Sango.  
“We will return in three days to see how the work goes.”   
She nodded quickly. Part of her didn’t want the demon lord to leave, but the other said it was necessary he go before the process begin. He gave her the briefest of nods before turning back the way he came, and disappearing from the shiro entirely. Her gaze fell back on the painter, who had risen from his bow into sitting position.  
“Lady Sango, do you have any ideas for your paintings?” Takahashi inquired, hands folded in his lap. Sango slid down to sit across from him and her blush finally spread over her cheeks.  
“To be honest, I’ve never done anything like this. I wouldn’t know where to begin. Lord Sesshoumaru suggested I follow your lead, and see where it goes... But I also know that being completely naked in front of a stranger makes me uncomfortable.” She admitted. Takahashi nodded and asked a few more questions.  
“Are these for you personally? Or a gift like the Lord Sesshoumaru’s were?”  
“A gift. My betrothed; we travel a lot and rarely find time to do anything for one another. I would ask that whatever you decide on, it be hearty enough for travel. Perhaps even a lacquer traveling box for the paintings to lock them away and protect them?” She sighed. “I really am not sure.”  
“Do not be anxious and put your worries aside, Lady Sango. These are things we can figure out with time. Can we ease you into the nudity, or are you completely against it? Perhaps there is a tight set of clothing you can don, or even a very sheer robe?”  
Sango considered this request for a moment.   
“My slayer uniform is meant for no hindrance movement. We could start there if you like?”  
Takahashi nodded. “We will look and see how this fares for the style of painting you have requested.”   
He chuckled and scratched the back of his head with an apologetic smile.  
“You’ll forgive me - Lord Sesshoumaru had such confidence he was nude nearly before I had asked him to undress. So long as his ward and vassal were off playing, the Lord seemed to prefer walking the Shiro in the nude. We had plenty of references for his paintings.”  
Sango nodded, unsurprised by the observation of the stoic Lord.   
“Where shall I dress down?” Sango asked, looking around the room. Takahashi pointed to the wall beside the door upon entering.  
“It is usually best to leave all things out of the way of the natural light. You are the focus of these paintings, am I right?” He inquired. She nodded with another light flush of her cheeks. “Anything extra distracts me from the focus. I want to ensure I know you before I begin.”  
Sango dressed down, setting her kimono, folded, aside as well as any pouches or weapons she had brought while the artist stood and returned to his room, gathering items for his study. A small demon, no larger than a scrawny toddler, was assisting him with laying out a small table that had a lip and tilted upwards. He laid out his tools on the lip, charcoal and other pieces for writing. Once he seemed settled, he looked up and began making markings on the paper laid out on the table they had set up.   
“Please move to the center of the room, Lady Sango.” He voice was gentle and quiet, even as he leaned to speak to the small demon. “Shi-chan, please close the door so we will not be interrupted by Rin-chan. We will need privacy.”   
The small demon did as he requested, and settled behind the artist. She stood still, hands behind her back, not sure what else to do with herself. He stayed quiet, looking up occasionally before he spoke again.  
“Would you please keep your hands down at your sides? And turn to the right if you would.”  
She did as requested, trying not to feel too awkwardly quiet. The day dragged on, and Takahashi continued posing her with small requests for the next few hours until lunch time.   
“My master and Lady, the afternoon meal is served.” Croaked the little demon, sliding the door open to welcome two young odd female demons who bowed as the placed the trays of food before them.  
“Eat Lady Sango. Once you are done, let me know.” Takahashi bowed and returned to the original room he had emerged from, sliding the door closed behind him. Shi-chan brought the tray in and served her, letting her settle before following his master with a bowl of soup. The whole area was quiet, only the chirp of birds and songs of crickets and frogs interrupting on occasion. She munched on some of the steamed vegetables she’d been provided, carrying the bowl around the room to stretch her legs and walking out to the overhanging porch to look out on the beautiful garden that had been cultivated. It was almost magical, as she watched small caliber demons and animals enjoy the deep pond.

The river that flowed through the compound came through under a grated bridge and supplied the pond with its water before flowing out the opposite end through another grated bridge that led back outside of the compound. Somehow, there was a bubbling rock at the edge of the pond that poured water back in. She could see the occasional flash of fat koi fish under the lilies, and the little newts that crawled over the moss that blanketed almost all of the ground in the middle of the shiro. She sat at the edge of the porch and set the bowl aside, leaning back as she eased her foot onto the moss, uttering in delight at the softness under her feet. Sango felt peace bubble up inside of her and suddenly felt a pang of loss at the fact Miroku was not here, sharing in her delight. She sighed, but returned to the room where she finished up the meal set before her. Rapping on the door Takahashi had disappeared to, she let him know her lunch was finished and he called back he would be right out.   
She waited for a few moments as the little demon Shi and the two little girls collected trays and dishes and left the room. 

“Lady Sango, I do have another question for you.” Takahashi exclaimed as he entered the room, closing the door behind him. “What is that massive thing in the corner?”  
He was clearly referring to hirakotsu, which she had turned on its side and leaned against the wall out of the way.  
“That is my demon bone weapon, hirakotsu. I wield it to slay unwanted or unruly demons.”   
He stroked his naked chin, nodding.  
“Would you mind terribly if you stood it on one end so I could make a few sketches?” He asked.  
“Whatever you need, of course!” His request made her smile. She went and picked the massive bone weapon up by its straps, holding it horizontally. It was just a touch taller than she was and standing beside it made her feel secure and confident. Takahashi was scribbling furiously, a pleased look on his face every time he glanced up. After an hour or so of twisting and turning it this way and the other, he paused.  
“We have one more thing I’d like to do today. Shi-chan, you may take your leave until I call you back in. Close the door.”  
The small red demon nodded and closed the sliding door behind him.   
“Lady Sango. I noticed something about the hirakotsu. I have a suggestion. You seem to brighten up in the presence of your weapon. It’s clearly giving you a sense of safety. Can I ask; undress and hold hirakotsu. It will give you more confidence, and even if its too scary, you can just swing it and take my head off with it should I upset you so.” The last part was given with a demure smile and a shake of his hand to please not, but it made sense. Sango nodded hesitantly and went to one corner of the room, far away from the sliding door she entered. She turned her back to Takahashi and began removing her armor and uniform one piece at a time. Then, once she had completely uncovered herself, she picked her weapon back up, eyes on the floor as she padded forward behind it. When she could see the desk in her peripheral, she looked up to see Takahashi. There was no lust in his eyes, not even curiosity. Just study of the angles. He was quiet for a long time as she hid as much of her nudity as she could behind hirakotsu, palming the weapon and almost stroking it for courage.   
“Please turn to face the wall.”   
She did exactly that, switching her hand holding the weapon. He remained silentious for another few minutes before directing her again, asking her this time to kneel and lay the weapon on her lap. She swallowed and turned back around, doing as he asked. A few more scribbles and he put his charcoal and writing utensils down.  
“Lady Sango. We have come a long way. I now must ask you... You may keep hirakotsu within your reach, as it gives you lovely confidence. But please, lay it flat on the floor and stand back up for me so I may observe your body without hindrances.”  
“Of course.” Sango agreed, willing away the shaking in her voice. All things considered, this really wasn’t as humiliating as she thought. The artist had shown next to no emotion. It was an unusual feeling, not having someone constantly commenting on her beauty or reaching out to touch it. She almost missed it.  
Almost.  
If this was all she would need to do, she would count it as a blessing. Perhaps being naked in front of strangers wasn’t nearly the deal she thought it would be.

~*~

The week went so quietly after the first three days of posing. Takahashi, being a much more clever man that Sango would have taken him for, had managed coax her to a level of confidence in her nakedness she never thought she would have while posing. Where she would normally be embarrassed, it felt natural doing so before a man with no emotional response to her nudity; it was truly liberating. Sesshoumaru, true to his word, had come to visit her in her quarters one morning after she had visited with Takahashi, who had dismissed her from any more posing, saying he had what he needed to create.   
“How do you fair, slayer?” He inquired over a cup of tea, served by the small demon girls. She nodded.  
“Not nearly as worrisome as I thought it would be. Takahashi is so...” She searched for the word. “Methodical. I’ve never experienced anything so lackluster in emotion as him.”  
Sesshoumaru nodded.   
“Good.”  
She peered at Sesshoumaru. “Why were you so concerned about him wasting time when we first arrived?”  
Sesshoumaru took a sip, lounging.   
“The dolt was nearly too frightened of us to lift his pen and draw.” Sesshoumaru drawled. “It took much gold and coaxing from Shishou before he would do as we asked. We took to walking the shiro naked before he would finally do so.”  
Sango laughed.   
“Rin and Jaken must have been outside?”  
“No. They were present. Shame in nudity and one’s natural self is a waste of time. We have better things to do.”   
This made Sango balk for a moment before peeling into more laughter.  
“You aren’t wrong, Sesshoumaru.”  
He raised a silver brow.  
“We rarely are.”  
She shook her head with a grin, and took another sip of tea before she took a deep breath.  
“Lord Sesshoumaru, I do have another request. I don’t want to impose, but... Your home is so beautiful. Would..” She struggled asking him. He had already shown great candor and kindness, and to take any more advantage felt wrong. “Perhaps I could pay you back somehow, but would it be possible to perhaps bring Miroku here for the unveiling of the gift? I wouldn’t want Shippou to be jealous, or try to peak, let alone Kagome...”   
Sango huffed.  
“That girl can be so nosy, and I’m not really ready to share this with her.”  
Sesshoumaru’s golden eyes rolled, but he nodded.   
“We shall accommodate. Has the painter stopped his posing?”  
Sango nodded. The demon lord’s eyes lit with something, and a grin spread over his face.  
“Then he is painting. Have you decided the means to which you will hide them?”  
Sango smiled and went to where the rest of her things were placed. From them she pulled a purple dyed leather satchel from the pile.  
“I decided the first day after. It was a conversation Takahashi had with me about securing the paintings. I had mentioned we travel a lot, and this was his suggestion. Apparently there is a leathersmith not far from the shiro that does beautiful work, and is how you had your paintings bound.”   
“Acceptable.” Sesshoumaru turned the leather in his hand, studying the markings and etchings. “We assume you are having them bound?”  
Sango nodded.   
“I think once they are finished, I’ll send Kirara back to get Miroku.”   
“We only ask you leave your room in acceptable condition once you are finished with your time away. We believe the pack will be resting at a village dealing with a locust infestation. Hopefully they will be stuck long enough for the cat to retrace its steps.”   
Sango nodded.   
  
~*~

Sesshoumaru’s visit was brief. Sango had decided to visit Takahashi every day, even though she’d been turned away at the door by his little demonic attendant. For four days, she was turned away from the painter’s quarters. On the fifth morning, Shishou stopped her at the door of her quarters and requested time to set up. Once everything was prepared, he would be back to retrieve her. The little girls served her tea while she waited with a small morning meal, and she sat, polishing her demon weapon thereafter. The day felt like it took forever, and the only solace in the quiet that passed was the peaceful lushness of the center garden. Then, the demon rapped on the door and requested her presence at Takahashi’s quarters.

Upon entering, Sango gasped at the number of easels set up for her inspection and wasn’t sure where to start first. Takahashi was waiting with a smile, and showed her around the room, listening intently as Sango surveyed the final product with stunned admiration.   
“We can have all of these bound alongside some sketches. It is what was requested before. The binding process takes next to no time, as it is done magically.” Sango looked around her, overwhelmed at the beauty. So this is what everyone saw when they looked.   
“Please. All of them.”  
Sango paused.  
“But before you do, grant me this request...”

~*~

When Kirara had landed without Sango, the group nearly panicked. Surely something had happened to the slayer and it was an emergency. When Sesshoumaru stepped in and requested only Miroku come with him, the others were confused, but reassured. Surely the demon lord would let no harm come to those he accompanied, and Rin and Jaken were proof of his promises. Miroku followed and they went off into the night. By daylight, after a few stops for rest, they arrived at Sesshoumaru’s home. Sango waited for them in a new kimono that had been lent to her. Miroku almost didn’t recognize the slayer. Her hair splayed around her in a veil of deep, dark chestnut and she looked like a royal. For the first time, he was driven to speechlessness in her presence. Sango blushed as he bowed before her, kissing her hand delicately.  
“You are truly the most beautiful woman in all of Japan. There is no comparison.” He finally said once he could muster anything. “It would be my honor to serve you in any way you see fit, fierce warrior princess of my heart.”   
Sango’s flush deepened and she laughed nervously, hiding as much as she could behind the sleeve of her kimono.  
“Actually, Miroku; this is for you!” She exclaimed softly. He looked around the complex, amazed and curious.   
“What did you do for me, Sango?”  
“Please. Come with me.”   
She took his hand and they walked towards her quarters. Before entering, she turned and put both her hands on his chest.  
“Wait. I want you to close your eyes.” She insisted. He scowled playfully, but agreed. Once she was sure his eyes were closed, she led him slowly into the room that had become her temporary quarters. Per her request, Takahashi had arranged the paintings according to the level of nudity he had portrayed in each piece. They had then played with the lighting of the room until Takahashi had determined the best lighting to display the portraits. She looked around one last time, butterflies in her stomach. Would Miroku be okay with this? Maybe he’d be bothered by her being naked before another man? Perhaps she should just avoid this whole thing and take it back.   
No.  
She was sure he would love all of them. Closing the door she moved him to the first one and nodded to herself, now putting her hands over his eyes behind him.   
“Okay. Start with the one here, and when you are ready, you go to the one on your right until you are all done. Are you ready?”  
“I’m not sure, Sango. Am I?” He teased. “I feel more like I should ask if you are?”  
She removed her hands from his eyes.

Miroku’s snarky grin slowly dropped as he stared at the first painting. Even Sango was somewhat surprised by the first one. She hadn’t realized Takahashi had been watching her the first day, and the first pose he had painted was truly a work of art. She was sitting on the porch as she had been during the first lunch break, one foot stretch daintily out and pressing into the soft moss below. She had been painted with a sheer robe falling down from her left shoulder around her hips. One arm had been clutched to her chest as her face tilted, looking over the garden. Her hair was swept over her left shoulder, so her neck was displayed in a beautiful pale line. Even the background of the garden had been painted in, only adding to the paleness of her skin. Miroku’s face gone completely expressionless as he looked over the first painting. From the center of the room, Sango sat and watched as he looked. Her nerves were frazzled, and his blank face was making it worse.

He had since moved on to the second of the seven Takahashi had painted. The second painting was of her in a pose she had accidentally stretched into when she was tired of sitting. She was kneeling, and had stretched, reaching as far up as she could letting her body arch forward. There had been a satisfying crack in her back and she had sighed and let her head fall to one side. The resulting painting was of her back to the painter, just slightly turned to her left. She was bare, stretched out on her knees, arching forward. One could see the gentle curve of her breast, the outline of muscle on her back before it disappeared under the curtain of her hair as she stretched and the curve of both of her buttock cheeks. Miroku’s eyes darted over the picture a few times and he moved on to the third painting.

Takahashi had been wise enough to paint her at her most confident. This time she was poised for action, but instead of hirakotsu behind her, it was in front of her, covering her pubic mound. The rest of her was bare, her breasts round and her nipples puckered in the cold. Sango’s hair was floating around her in this painting, giving depth and intensity that her gaze compacted. Miroku moved faster beyond this one to the next one. Surely the fourth one was one of his favorites - it showed her standing, her naked backside on display. One foot was stepping forward, one dragging behind. Hirakotsu was perched on her shoulders and she was holding it up with both hands, her head turned to the right, mostly covered by the large weapon. The soft subtle curves had been painted eloquently, and her hair tumbled over the V of the demon bone weapon. 

The fifth painting was by far one of the more scandalous ones... It showed her sitting on the cornered edge of a table of sorts, her feet on her toes with her legs spread on either side. The painting looked up at her over the edge of the table her hair was splayed over her shoulders, and covered nothing, while one hand was grasping at the softness of her breast, a hardened nipple peaking out between her fingers. Her eyes were hooded with desire, and her other hand was hidden away behind the edge that she was sitting on. What it was doing had been left to the imagination of the viewer. 

She saw Miroku swallow before he moved to the next painting. This one was of her leaned forward, sitting in a kneeling position at another table with her chin in one arm, and her breasts pushed up by the other as they were displayed on the table over her arm. They were so large and supple by comparison of the plums that had been painted on the table, and the flush in her skin made her healthy and arousing. She was not looking at the painter; but off to the side.

The last painting’s pose had taken every ounce of courage to do. She had sat towards Takahashi and while in the painting she was touching herself very intimately, that was not what she had done while posing for the painting. Sitting with one knee up, leaning back on one arm, and the other knee to the side spread her womanhood wide and leaving it pink and glistening for the viewer to see. Originally she had her arm resting on the knee that was still up; but Takahashi had painted her hand between her legs, playing with the pink pearl that was exposed by the akimbo pose it left her legs in. Sweat dripped down the front of her body, between two very pink and hardened nipples and her face was crumpled with need. The details were small, but each precious stroke made the painting look like something you could participate in. 

He had come to the end of the paintings. Sango had kind of wondered what had happened after Kagome was finished with the paintings. All she knew was both she and Sesshoumaru had been positively unconcerned with anything but the two of them the night Sesshoumaru had presented Kagome with her gift.   
Miroku’s silence was deafening. Sango could hear her heart pounding through her chest as he circled back around to view the pages again, slowly inspecting them. At one point, he reached out and touched the corner of one before going back to the previous and frowning.  
“Sango.”   
She looked up, seeing only his back.   
“Yes?”  
“You had these made, correct?”  
She nodded, then realizing he wasn’t looking at her answered with another soft yes.  
“So another man has looked on you like this to paint these, yes?”  
Sango flushed hard. He was not pleased. These questions surely were him not pleased. Tears gathered at the back of her eyes as she looked down at her hands  
“Yes, Miroku. They are meant to be bound and put to a book for you and given in a satchel I had made for you, but I can ask for them to be burned if you are upset.” Her voice was shaking and tight, and she was swiping at her eyes to keep any tears from falling. So she had done something for him and failed. At the very least, she would keep her dignity by refusing to cry in front of him.  
He finally turned to her and her red cheeks deepened in color. Miroku had untied the front robe and was now in only his black robes, but his hands were slowly making work of them. His eyes seemed angry, but Sango knew him better than that. What was all over his face was lust. There was tension in him as he approached her in the middle of the room.  
“I’m going to be selfish, Sango...” His voice was low, passionate as the robes loosened and started to drop off of his shoulders. It caught on something before it completely dropped off his hips. The hand of the wind tunnel grabbed a fistful of Sango’s hair and forced her head back. His mouth was crushing hers. All of the childish feelings she had of embarrassment and fear were swallowed by an explosion of carnal need, now radiating through them.   
“I’ve tried not to push, and I haven’t wanted to ask for more than you were willing to give.” He whispered against her mouth, now caressing her cheek with his other hand. “Then you bring me here and its just us...”  
He looked up, at one of the paintings behind her. “And you show me these...”  
His mouth worked over her again, and she mewled against his mouth with need.  
“I’m taking what I want this time Sango. I love you... I need you. Let me have you.”   
Sango rose up onto her knees to press into him.   
“Take what you need... I love you..” She whispered. His salacious grin made her stomach twist with desire.   
“Good.”  
His hand tightened once again tightened in her hair, and the rest of the robe dropped off of his throbbing member. Sango allowed her mouth to be guided over his length, hot and twitching into her mouth. She sucked delicately, her tongue caressing under him and spreading as much of her saliva over him as she could. Her cunt heated and began a throbbing beat when she heard him moan her name, that hand tight and unrelenting in her hair. He pressed his hips forward, and she took the additional length, swallowing it with lust addled fervor.   
“Gods, Sango... Please..” He groaned. She tried not to smile over his cock, pleased she could bring this man to pleading. With no extra coaxing, she began a rhythm enjoying the bump of the crown of his cock into the back of her throat. Every time he twitched she swallowed, drawing more desperate noises from her lover, and before she knew it, the man was tugging her hair away from this length with a warning to release him. 

He fell noisily to his knees after removing his hand from her hair only to pull her mouth into his, grabbing roughly at the ties of the kimono she wore. He pulled back in surprise when he realized that Sango had forgone many layers - there was only one he needed to remove before he hit bare skin.  
“Fuck, Sango... You intended for this to be the reaction didn’t you?” He groaned against her mouth, hot breath fanning over her neck as he moved down. She nodded mutely, too caught up in his hands sliding into the silk of her kimono to palm the skin at her ribs, sliding down her sides and up her back in the softest deification. His mouth moved in hot reverence down the column of her throat, pressing kisses and nips into her skin as his hands came to a pressing rest at her back, pulling the softness of her breasts into the hardness of his chest. Wrapping both of his arms around her, he pulled her in between his knees and crushed her body against him, biting the junction of her shoulder. Her breath came in shallow pants with how harshly he was crushing her, arms stuck at her sides now as he squeezed the breath from her chest.  
She loved being squeezed by him; in the safety of his arms she could barely breath and it fanned the flames of her nethers hotter.  
“I can smell you, you’re so wet for me.” He whispered salaciously. “Perhaps I should taste you as well?”  
Sango hadn’t the opportunity to respond. He shoved her back, hard, so she drummed against the tatami. He gathered her legs over his shoulders so fast that when his tongue tapped her lips for entrance she cried out in surprise.   
“Miroku!”  
She was panting like she’d just run five miles of forest. His tongue dipped between her lips teasingly. When he kissed those lips like they were the ones on her face, she lost it. He was just as passionate and crushing, moving his mouth against her labia with bruising force that made her clit spark with desire.   
“Sango... you’re positively weeping for me...” He teased against her pussy lips. “I would never intend for you to cry so for me.”  
He kissed her again down there, and this time his mouth opened and sucked as much of her body into his mouth as he could. She wailed beneath him as he wrapped his arms around her abdomen and pulled her body into his mouth as he savagely devoured, laved, and sucked, his knees rising from the tatami.   
“I’m going to force your pleasure so hard...” He panted against her lips, nipping at them between words. “You’re not going to be able to speak of what has happened here for weeks.”  
Sango’s juices were overflowing. She could feel them leaking over her taint, down her ass, and over her back from where Miroku was assaulting her cunt with that talented, lecherous mouth of his. Never would she ever admit to the monk how much she loved his blaspheming mouth when he was this aroused. His tongue thrust into her vaginal canal and she could no longer think. She was a mewling, whining thing beneath his ministrations, and as he tongue-fucked her out of her mind, the rest of her exploded with orgasmic juice that sprayed over both of them.  
Far be it from Miroku to stop for her to rest, for them to mop of the mess she’d made.   
“YES!” He roared over her pussy, quickly putting her down and using his fingers to pump into her cunt. His fingers found that blissful spot inside of her, and with her walls still quaking from her last orgasm, his hands pumped unforgivingly inside, fingers curling over her g-spot.   
“Scream for me!” the monk positively howled, leaning forward so he could wrap his free hand around her throat and squeeze hard enough for her face to turn red. She couldn’t not. Her back bowed from the floor, arms shaking as she screamed for him his name when his hand loosened and every curse she knew. Her orgasm sprayed more fluid over his hand, and he refused to stop until she was voilently shaking and seemingly empty of the spray that he kept coaxing with violent finger-fucking.   
His hand slowed and pulled carefully out of her aching cunt as he leaned down to press gentle kisses to her cheeks and neck, waiting for her to come back down from the high he’d flung her into.   
“Darling, do not think we are done... You sucked me until I was hard, not until I came.” He growled against her throat. Sango felt herself throb at his low, threatening tone, and was shocked she could still feel anything after the back to back bursts of pleasure she’d just received at his mouth and hands. Her mind was running in delighted circles though, screaming happiness as she realized he was going to plumb the depths of her cunt with his unnaturally long cock.   
When she finally had the dexterity to push herself onto her forearms, she eyed him darkly, planting her legs wide for him.  
“What makes you think after two mediocre orgasms I’d be done with you.” Her tone was deep and slow, paired with a raised eyebrow. It was fantastic... Sex with Miroku could make her go from perfect daddy’s girl to a perversion of nature, and neither of them were done until they couldn’t move. Miroku was still poised between her thighs, stroking his long cock slowly with his beaded hand, pressing those turquoise beads into himself. She loved watching the slow progression, up, and down as he pleasured himself before her, knees wide so she didn’t miss the subtle twitch in his thighs.  
“Do you think there is enough lubrication?” He answered her challenging tone with one of his own. “Perhaps you should touch yourself for me. Let me make sure you’re ready...”  
They locked hooded eyes as she reached down, lovingly stroking at her breasts first before tweaking a nipple, gliding down over the flat muscled plane of her stomach to the junction of her thighs. Clearly, she was still wet. Her fingers could barely find purchase enough to pleasure that little bundle of nerves at the hood of her labia, but she pinched herself hard enough to toss her hair back, now dampened with sweat, and groan low. 

“Miroku, if you don’t put your cock in me soon, I will walk out of this room and find something of similar length to finish myself with.” She threatened, looking back up from her moaning. He hissed in pleasure at her words and released his cock, dragging her first by her ankles, then her ass into his lap. His hips ground against her wetness, soaking as much of that juice u p as he could and wetting his length with a few long strokes of her clit before guiding the crown of his cock to her pussy. He was dipping into her at such an angle she could see everything from her position on the floor, and she cooed at the stretching feeling of her cunt as he slid just past her entrance and stopping.   
Surely he could feel the fluttering of her walls around him, pleading for more as she mewled and angled her hips to pull more of him in. One hand on her hip pressed blunt nails into her skin, warning her to quit moving.   
“Don’t make me pull this cock out of you. You may be able to find a broom to finish with, but it isn’t the same..” He teased “My long..”  
He paused, inching forward at an agonizing pace.  
“Thick...”  
She could feel every centimeter.  
“Hot.”  
His pace was negligent and she was dying to get him inside.  
“Cock!”  
One thrust had her screaming his name again as he seated himself fully inside of her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, holding him in place while her slick heat pulsed around him.  
“Fuck Sango... So wet.” he groaned, his free hand scratching down her abdomen. She squealed and bucked against him, needing more.  
“You want more, my dove?” He growled low in his throat. She nodded, eyes clenched and mouth having fallen open, pleas of need barely voiced. Miroku leaned forward, resting her ass on the floor now as he readjusted himself to stretch her cunt farther. The hand on her hip was now trailing down to play with her clit, making her tense around his dick while the other found her throat. Before he wrapped his hand around it, he kissed her softly and bucked his hips against her once, then twice.  
“Are you ready?” He rasped, swiping at her throat with a thumb. 

“Goddamnit Miroku, fuck me!” She cried out, nails digging into the tatami around them. Miroku didn’t need to be ordered twice. He grabbed her throat and plunged into her as hard as he could, her entire body having nearly shifted out of the grasp of his hand where he held her by the throat. He was not gentle; no, Miroku’s hips surged like the destructive force of a storm at high tide, bruising and angry. Sango’s couldn’t breath for a long moment after he’d started pummeling her pussy but as he pulled his fingers away from her clit, he trapped her shoulder with his forearm above it thrust with everything in him. She wailed again, calling his name and sobbing in pleasure, her eyes rolling back as they saw stars. Pleading with him never to stop, her legs wrapped around him, hips tilted so he could recklessly seek pleasure. The slap of skin, panting, groans, gasps and screams between them came to a fever pitch and when Sango let him know she was close, he grabbed her throat hard and squeezed, jack hammering into her. 

Her pussy tightened into a vice and she screamed through his chokehold, clawing at his arms and bucking as wildly into him as she was allowed. He followed her into bliss with a loud shout, coating her cunt with his cum and pumping until he was shuddering above her. He didn’t remove himself and stayed plunged into her core for a long few minutes after, panting over her. Once he could see straight, he kissed her sweetly, gently, on her forehead, cheeks and throat. When he pulled away from her body, the both shuddered at the feeling as Miroku wrapped her in his arms, resting on the discarded silk of the outer kimono she had been wearing.  
After a long quiet moment, she finally spoke up.  
“So I take it you do like the paintings?” She rasped with a smile to herself. Miroku kissed her neck and nodded.  
“They are the most beautiful thing in the world, second only to you, Sango.” He whispered, stroking a tendril of her hair away from her face. Sango smiled, pleased she had followed through with Kagome’s dare. Truly, it had resulted in what could easily be some of the best sex of her life. 

~*~

Miroku and Sango enjoyed one another for the rest of the night they stayed. The binding of the small book happened the following day. There had been no real need for a leather covering, so they did it in wood paper instead and the book itself was very simple. The leather pouch held it lovingly and Miroku was pleased to see that it matched his robes quite comfortably. Takahashi had finished the binding, handing the book back to Sango.  
“My Lady Sango, Lord Miroku.” He bowed and smiled softly at both of them. “Do check the book to see that they are all there.” He paused and looked at Sango.  
“My lady, I hope you do not mind, but I added one more. There shall be eight paintings total in the book. I included some sketches I did at the back for posterity and enjoyment.” He bowed again. She didn’t think to check the book again until they were walking out of the shiro.  
The last painting that had been included.... Was of her and Miroku. She blinked, shocked at the quickness.   
Sango was laying on her side, a post-coital smile of bliss striking her features. Her bare body was facing the painter, laying on the silk of a kimono and tatami mat as Miroku was leaned over her, and expression of quiet adoration over his face as he brushed hair back. Her breasts were covered by her arms, laying out before her, but you could see all the way down to her shapely waist. Both Miroku and Sango stared in admiration for a long moment before Miroku’s head tilted.  
“You don’t think..?” He pursed his lips in thought for a moment. “He didn’t... Watch... Did he?”  
Sango flushed, her head jerking to look at him.  
“Surely not.” She flustered, snapping the book shut and handing it to Miroku. They exchanged a look, then looked back over their shoulder at the shiro, then back at one another.   
“Nah...” Miroku said absently, casting another glance over his shoulder before grasping Sango’s hand and walking down the path where Kirara was to meet them. Somehow, even if Takahashi did watch, Sango couldn't find it in her to mind. The painting it produced was not crass - it was every bit as romantic as Sesshoumaru and Kagome’s was. She smiled to herself as Miroku released her hand, groping her bottom and pulling her hip flush to his. Worth every second.

**Author's Note:**

> We have no qualms about making this into a mini-series. There is just sooooo much you can do with this. We hope you enjoyed this smutty ship we generally think nothing of!  
> As always, critique and constructive criticism is the path to better writing.  
> Thank you for your read!


End file.
